


My World - Cold and Wet

by DustyP



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-20
Updated: 2013-05-20
Packaged: 2017-12-12 11:26:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/811060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DustyP/pseuds/DustyP
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Episode related - Survival</p>
            </blockquote>





	My World - Cold and Wet

**Author's Note:**

> I was watching Survival the other day and got to wondering what Blair and Jim would be thinking as they were separated when Jim had to leave Blair behind in the forest...

  
"Hey Jim, wait up buddy...  I need a couple of minutes... my head's killing me, man."  
  
Blair's exhausted voice brought Ellison to a full stop, and he turned round to see the wet, bedraggled, figure of his partner sliding down against the side of a tree.  
  
He squatted down to examine his friend, one hand going to the bloody bruise on the side of the younger man's head.  
  
"What's going on?  Oh... you're pretty well banged up there. Is your vision okay?" he asked anxiously.  
  
Light though it was, Blair winced away from the touch, it still hurt.  In fact, he hurt all over.  
  
Ever since they had crawled out of the icy water, he had followed Ellison blindly;  jumping over logs and small bushes, often landing in water-filled ditches... running...  dodging spiteful tree branches that clawed at him out of the darkened forest... running... running... not knowing where he was, or in which direction.  His head pounded in rhythm with his stumbling feet, trying to keep up; trying not to let Jim know how much he was hurting - but now, he'd reached his limit.  
  
He had hit his head on a rock as he'd been tumbled by the raging river water, and the pain, as well as the violent exercise, was wearing him down, leaching away his stamina and strength.  
  
Jim, equally as wet as his partner, looked round in the growing darkness; with his Sentinel sight, the night was no handicap to him.  He knew he needed to go on before he lost the trail, but also realised that his younger friend couldn't keep up this pace for any longer.  Already he could hear the rasping noise as Blair fought to breathe and could see the growing bruise on the side of his head. He'd been concentrating on tracking the escaped prisoner and his captive and hadn't been checking on his partner, which he should've done. They'd had a very rough day.  Even his strength was beginning to tire, although he wasn't nearly as weary as Sandburg.  
  
 _Okay, Ellison... think..._  
  
Looking round, he made his decision.  
  
"This is a good place - good shelter. I'm going to see whether I can get back on the trail ... I'll double back for you in a little while. Okay?"  
  
Blair tried to brush some of the wet mud off his jeans.  The thought of resting for a while was very tempting, and although he didn't like to admit it, he had reached the end of his tether.

"You gonna think less of me, if I actually take you up on that offer?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.  
  
"I'll probably think that you're some sort of self-serving spineless gruber..." Jim's white teeth flashed in the darkness.  
  
"I can live with that," murmured Blair, trying to smile as his partner's hand patted his shoulder compassionately.  
  
"Be back in a little while." Ellison came smoothly to his feet, anxious to get back on the track of his captain and started off into the trees. Pausing after a few steps he turned back.  "Chief, stay awake." He pointed a warning finger... "no camp fires."   
  
Without waiting for a reply, he ran into the treeline and disappeared from Blair's sight and hearing.  
  
"Camp fires?" Blair asked the night disgustedly. "What am I gonna burn, man?  Cold and wet is my world."  
  
Leaning his head back against the rough bark of the tree, he closed his eyes trying to will the pain away.  Gradually, his breathing got easier and he relaxed slightly.  He was freezing, his soaking wet clothes doing little to help against the cold night air.   He was also miserable, and it wasn't just his uncomfortable situation that was the reason.  
  
Fine rescuer he'd turned out to be. Besides wanting to help Jim find Simon, he'd been worried that his Sentinel might zone out when he was alone in the forest and he'd honestly thought he could be of some help.  Huh!  All he'd done was slow Jim down. Now the detective would have to waste time coming back for him.  He had no doubt that Jim would come back for him... but he hated being responsible for adding to Jim's burden.  
  
Without light, or heat, his shivering intensified, and he curled up, arms wrapped round his body to retain what little body heat he had left.  His mind kept going back to the sheer terror he'd felt as he'd flung himself off the top of that cliff after Jim. His always active imagination kept reliving the fall and the abrupt landing in the ice-cold river; he couldn't remember being so scared in a very long time.  That same imagination was also jumping at  every sound that came to his ears; was that a bear?  
  
He hadn't seen any during the daylight hours, but that meant nothing... bears came out at night just like other predators... okay, they didn't usually hunt humans, but coming across one lost human, might be tempting for them.  
  
"Don't be stupid, Sandburg," he growled to himself.  "Just stay awake and wait for Jim. He'll come back... he's got to come back."   
  
He shivered again as his thoughts whirled in no particular order: he was worried that the escaped prisoner might somehow get the drop on his partner... was Simon still alive? Jim seemed to think so... that was why he was so eager to stick to the trail, he wouldn't have left Blair if he thought he was in any danger... stay awake Blair... come on... think about something else... besides being cold and wet and hurt and scared... for Simon, himself and especially for Jim.   
  
"Don't zone, man," he whispered softly, "please come back safe and sound."  
  
He started up at another sound, his body strung with tension, the thumping in his head starting anew. When nothing loomed out of the blackness, he tried to relax again.  
  
Oh man, he didn't like this... waiting and wondering and worrying... maybe staying behind wasn't such a good idea after all.  
       
Jim had picked up the trail again, without too much trouble. He'd found the remains of a camp fire and one of the tin mugs was still warm to his sensitive touch; he could also smell cigars, the expensive kind that Simon preferred.  He had every reason to think that Simon was still alive; it was obvious to him that Quinn had a use for his captive, or Jim would've found the big captain's body by now. He just hoped he'd be in time to get to Simon before Quinn decided he was of no further use.  
  
It was almost dawn; he had to get back to Blair.  
  
Something was nagging at the back of his mind, a sense of danger. He really shouldn't have left the kid, especially with a head wound, but it hadn't seemed too severe, and what other options had there been?  Although he didn't know the exact location of those hunters who had fired on them without warning, he hadn't sensed them nearby when Blair had stopped, so it had seemed safe enough to leave him. Sandburg knew his own limitations, he'd been honest, and courageous, enough to tell Jim of that fact.  The kid had realised that Jim had to go on, that it might take a few hours... so why did Jim feel like he'd abandoned his young partner?    
  
Okay, enough thinking; he knew the general direction that Quinn was taking, time to get back to Blair... see that he was okay - then they'd both go on to rescue Simon.  
  
Right!  
  
He was well on his way back to where he'd left his partner when he heard the sound of a gunshot.  
  
Blair!  Oh God. No...  
  
   
  
 (c) Dusty P  
 20th September 2004  
  
 


End file.
